


The Hulk Has Big Fingers (It's really all Tony's fault)

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Fingering, Hulk porn, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Sixty-nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony uses an experimental drug on Bruce, and suddenly the Hulk has a Hulk-sized problem that only his lover can help him with</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hulk Has Big Fingers (It's really all Tony's fault)

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't enough Hulkporn in the world, you guys. Come on.

“Birdbrain!”

 

Clint hears Tony’s call off in the distance, but he ignores it, lifting another arrow to his bow and taking careful aim. He hears the beeping of the code being punched into the shooting range door. It slides open, and Tony calls his name so loudly that Clint actually misses his mark.

 

He wheels, ready to lash out at Tony for making him make a mistake, but there’s panic in Tony’s eyes, and Clint’s anger is extinguished.

 

“There’s something wrong with the big guy,” Tony pants, his throat dry. “I need your help.”

 

They charge back through the tower, the stairs are faster than the elevator, with Tony explaining breathlessly along the way what had happened.

 

“ – It was only supposed to give him more control over the Jolly Green Giant, but this was our first run through the test and something went seriously wrong - !”

 

They arrive at the containment cell that they’d built into the tower specifically for the Hulk, and Clint’s mouth goes dry as well. The Hulk is lying on his back on the white, sterile floor, writhing and grunting, and even from where he stands almost twelve feet away, Clint can see there’s a bulge in the Hulk’s trousers that can only mean one thing.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Tony throws his hands up. “I don’t dare go in there again, I barely got away the first time,” he lifts his sleeve to show a very large hand-shaped bruise on his forearm. “He tried to… well, he tried to get off on me. Humped me like a damned dog. I don’t know what’s happening to him, but according to Jarvis his blood pressure is rising. You’re his lover – sort of – what the hell are we supposed to do?”

 

"You get out." Clint says. He drops his quiver and bow on a nearby bench and starts undoing the many buckles and snaps on his uniform shirt. Bruce is going to hate him for this later but the Hulk is as much his responsibility as Bruce is and when he needs help god dammit he's going to get it.  
  
"Have medical on standby. Jarvis can monitor us and let you know if something goes wrong." he orders, glaring at Tony fiercely, practically daring him to say anything.

 

Tony simply nods. “Alright, I’ll be just down the hall, I’ll keep my ear out for trouble,” he says, before backing away and running back to his lab to furiously go over his notes to see where he’d made such an error.

 

The Hulk is practically whimpering, and he doesn’t have enough sense to realize that the source of his discomfort is coming from the tightness of his trousers. His fists are clenching uselessly and his hips are jutting off the floor, his toes curling and his head thrown back helplessly.

 

Clint, stripped down to his boxers now, goes over to the speaker on the wall and hits the button to buzz the cell, getting the Hulk's attention.  
  
"Hey man I'm coming in. Be a good boy and stay there, alright?" he says, waiting for some sign the Hulk understands. He doesn't get one but he wasn't really expecting anything. With a sigh he leaves the speaker and goes to the door, hesitantly coming into the room.  
  
The Hulk is tracking him with his eyes, looking ready to jump up and pounce on him. It makes Clint a little wary and he holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, letting him know that he's not here to hurt him.  
  
"It's gonna be okay big guy. I'm just here to help you, alright?" he says soothingly, slowly approaching the large man. He knows the Hulk wouldn't hurt him intentionally but there's no telling what could happen if he got a little over-enthusiastic.

 

The Hulk has stopped whimpering and wailing, but he’s still breathing hard, his lips parted, his brows drawn and his nostrils flaring.

 

“Hurt,” he says uncharacteristically weakly, recognizing Clint instantly as the only person in the world he trusts implicitly, the only person in the world who has ever taken care of him and treated him nicely. “ _Hurt_.”

 

"I know, I know." Clint says, trying to imitate the tone Bruce always uses to calm him when he wakes up from on of his nightmares. He's close enough to touch now and he reaches out, laying his palm against the Hulk's forearm. "But Clint is going to make it all better."  
  
He moves closer and reaches for the straining zipper on the Hulk's pants. He keeps telling Bruce there's nothing wrong with wearing sweat pants in the lab but he always insists on wearing at least jeans. Maybe after this little episode he'll change his mind.  
  
Clint gives the Hulk a reassuring smile before jerking the zipper down. The Hulk grunts and Clint smiles shakily up at him, glad his hips are already raised, before taking hold of his waistband and the waist band of his too tight briefs and tugging them both down. They're out of the way in a matter of seconds and then it's just the Hulk, completely naked.  
  
And his _cock._ It makes Clint's mouth go dry. He had some idea of the size of it just based on the size of Bruce but fuck that thing is huge. It's at least the size of his forearm and Clint's got pretty thick arms. And it's long and green, a darker shade than the rest of him, and hard as a rock.  
  
Fuck.  
  
"That feel better buddy?" Clint asks, taking a step back, and forcing his gaze back up to the giant's face.

 

The Hulk only nods, keeping his eyes squeezed shut, and most of the discomfort has washed away from him, leaving him feeling hot and heavy, but not in pain.

 

Clint has to keep reminding himself that despite the Hulk’s massive body and impressive physique, he’s barely older than five years old in his mind. It makes him feel guilty, almost filthy and depraved, but with his cock jutting away from his body and leaking all over his stomach, the Hulk needs help now, inner workings be damned.

 

He whimpers again and stares down at his own cock, but it isn’t a look of disbelief or confusion, rather one of desperation. And then another realization hits Clint that made him feel a little dumb. Bruce once told him that the Hulk learns from Bruce’s experiences, and Clint and Bruce must have done everything from fucking to making love a hundred thousand times since they met. Even if he has the rational processing of a young child, the Hulk is far from clueless on the subject.

 

Especially if the way he’s rutting his hips helplessly upwards, or the way he’s holding onto Clint’s thigh has anything to say about it.

 

Clint steps closer again and cautiously reaches out, one hand rubbing the Hulk's arm and the other wrapping around his cock. Or as much around his cock as he can. Clint's fingers don't make it all the way around and he feels a little sick. There is no way that is going to fit inside him. Not today, not ever. He just prays it doesn't come to that.  
  
"I'm going to make you feel better Hulk." he promises, hand sliding up the Hulk's length to the head, his fingers already sticky with pre-come.

 

The Hulk is already grunting, his feet stomping weakly at the floor and his teeth clenched as he juts his hips up into Clint’s hand. The friction is something he craves blindly and without question. His hand comes to rest on the arm pleasuring him, and his fingers clench a little too tightly, but he’s well trained because one small smack from Clint on his hand and he’s letting up, whimpering in apology and rubbing his thumb across the underside of the archer’s forearm.

 

“Make Hulk feel better,” he grunts breathily, his tone pleading and gruff and raw. “Please.”

 

"I will Hulk, I will." He swears. The man is giving off heat like crazy. It's like standing next to a fire and Clint is starting to sweat. He feels sticky and gross but he forces it out of his mind. He needs to focus on Hulk now. He can shower later.  
  
The Hulk is still pleading and Clint feels so bad. The poor guy has never had to deal with anything like this before and it's clearly driving him crazy. And Clint's hand alone isn't enough.  
  
He licks his lips and inspiration hits him. Bruce is definitely going to hate him for this but hey, he can't let the poor guy suffer.  
  
So he hesitantly leans forward and adds his tongue to the mix, licking and teasing the places his hand just isn't hitting.

 

The Hulk is strangely quiet now, and Clint would think he’d passed out altogether were his eyes not open wide and his lips parted just the same. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared blankly up at the ceiling, feeling nothing but the wetness on his penis and the pressure there as well.

 

His fists had fallen open into palms on the floor and suddenly he rolls his head back and his hips up and his eyes close and The Hulk _moans_.

 

No. Shit no. No way. That should not be hot. That definitely should not be that hot and it definitely should not be making Clint a little hard. He tries to ignore it, forces his mind to his drills while he teases the Hulk's slit with his tongue. Because he can not think like that. Because Bruce is his boyfriend and if that weren't enough the Hulk is basically drugged and has the mind of a child. So yeah, definitely not a good road to start down.  
  
But then the Hulk moans again as Clint's free hand reaches between his legs and cups the man's (very large) balls. And yeah that is definitely going straight to his cock.

 

The Hulk is whimpering again, and one large hand comes to rest on top of Clint’s head, where he starts to pat and pet his hair affectionately, unsure of how to return the feeling he’s receiving. His toes curl and his breathing huffs as he rolls his hips up against the assault of sensation between his legs. He feels Clint’s fingers lower, on a place that he’s never paid much attention to at all, but the feeling altogether is pleasant, so he gives a grunt of appreciation.

 

He feels a tension coursing through him that he’s never experienced, and he doesn’t know how to fix it or make it stop, but Clint promised to make it better, and he trusts Clint.

 

Clint pulls back and leans down to kiss one of the Hulk's massive thighs. He can see that he's starting to get to the big guy and its confusing and scaring him. That could end badly and Clint really doesn't want that. And this is the Hulk's first, an possibly only, sexual experience and it should be good for him.  
  
"You just gotta relax big guy." Clint says, kissing the base of his cock. "Just let it go."

 

Some of the tension leaves the Hulk, and he sags against the floor, both of his hands on either of Clint’s shoulders now and he spreads his legs a little wider to give him better access.

 

“Hulk feels good,” he grunts when Clint stretches his mouth as far as he is able over the tennis-ball sized head. “Very good.”

 

His mind is reeling, and he seems to remember times when Clint did this with the smaller guy who lived inside him, but it’s hard for him to focus on anything at the best of times, and this was making it nigh impossible. He ground his hips up weakly against the touch, and suddenly he remembers that the smaller guy inside him did these things for Clint too.

 

“Want,” he tries to articulate, but he doesn’t even know what to ask for properly. “Want help Cupid too.”

 

Clint pulls away, brows drawn in confusion. Then it dawns on him. The Hulk wants to reciprocate. He wants to make Clint feel good too. Which is also a very bad idea. The Hulk won’t have any idea what he's doing and Clint really doesn't want all that unregulated strength anywhere near his dick.  
  
"That's sweet Hulk." he says. "Maybe later though. Let's focus on making you feel good right now, alright big guy?"

                                                                                     

“Want help,” The Hulk insisted, and suddenly he sat up. He was deaf to Clint’s protests, and Clint was powerless to stop the Hulk, and as much as he wanted to trust him, god he’s scared.

 

But those fears are thrown out the window as soon as his back hits the floor, and the Hulk’s mouth wraps effortlessly around the entire length of his cock. He isn’t sure at what point his boxers left, but he knows they’re gone now, and that giant tongue is laving its way clumsily around his shaft, and oh god it’s good.

 

"Oh fuck, Hulk..." Clint gasps. His eyes are closed and fuck that pressure is better than he had expected. It's kind of great actually. And his tongue is huge and wet and not very skilled but it's definitely getting the job done. There might be a little more teeth involved than Clint is used to but luckily he likes things a little rough and the occasional tinge of pain only serves to make him moan louder.

 

The Hulk knows that Clint’s noises are good noises, and he likes the feeling of his tiny fingers working through his hair. He opens his big green eyes and looks up, seeking more approval, which he gets in the form of a shaky smile from the much smaller man. The Hulk hums happily and continues to lap and suck at the length, doing only the things that he gets the good noises or happy little hair pulls for.

 

His hands are firm on Clint’s hips, but he doesn’t hold on too tight because he doesn’t want his hand to get hit again like it always does when he squeezes too tight.

 

"Th-that's good Hulk." Clint tells him, tugging playfully at his hair. He tries to buck up into the Hulk's mouth but can't. The hands on his hips are too tight but that's okay. The Hulk has taken him in completely so there's really nothing he can add except maybe a little friction to match the warm wetness of his tongue.

 

The Hulk is sucking in the only way he really knows how, like a child sucks his thumb, or a lolly pop, with careful, measured, even sucks that are powerful even though he’s trying to be gentle. He continues to hum, he likes the sound of Clint’s moans very much and he rubs his wide thumbs over the small man’s hip bones. He can feel him trying to buck up, but he’s already trying to focus on working his tongue and lips over the hot thing in his mouth, and he doesn’t want to balance that with trying how to counter Clint’s thrusts.

 

He opens his mouth a little wider, and Clint’s eyes shoot open when the Hulk uses his large tongue to lift the archer’s balls into his mouth as well, giving them a gentle suck right along with the rest of his package.

 

Clint's head tipped back and he closed his eyes again, hands balling into tight fists at his sides. That felt so good. So damn good. And it's wrong and forbidden which makes it even better even though he knows he won't be able to avoid Bruce's punishment after this. Of course, that thought just makes him hotter.  
  
"Hulk...Hulk man I'm gonna lose it...shit man you have to stop." he gasped, tugging on the Hulk's hair. There was that familiar clenching in his lower belly and he was really close to giving in to the pleasure but he didn't think the Hulk was ready for that yet.

 

Hulk knows the word ‘stop’ and he pulls back with concern in his eyes, worried that he may have hurt his only friend. His lips are glistening with saliva, which is now dribbling also down between Clint’s ass cheeks, and out of habit his hole is beginning to soften and pulse at the wetness, but the Hulk doesn’t need to know that.

 

 _Shit..._ Clint thinks, reaching between his legs and taking hold of his aching cock. A few quick tugs later he's shooting come over his hand and stomach, knowing full well that the Hulk is watching him. He should be disgusted with himself, and he'll take time for that later, but right now he's too busy enjoying the high from his orgasm. "Thanks buddy." he mutters dreamily, gazing up at the Hulk. "That was great."

 

The Hulk’s tongue is on him in a second, lapping up every drop that shoots from his cock, and Clint is whining and arching up into that slick muscle as it slides over his hairless body. He can feel the Hulk’s massive cock pressing against his thigh, and the Hulk seems to gain a little confidence because his hands are on Clint’s waist and he kisses his shoulder and his throat, his lips much larger and much hotter than anything the archer had ever experienced.

 

"Hulk...man, come on." Clint says, trying to sit up. The Hulk is happily sucking a mark onto his shoulder though, even if he doesn't realize what he's doing, and doesn't seem to want to be moved. Clint would smack him to make him let go but the Hulk isn't actually doing anything wrong and he won't punish him for no good reason. "Hulk we still have to take care of you." he says instead, lifting his thigh to rub against the Hulk's cock. "Let Clint help you Hulk."

 

The massive man’s breath is hot against Clint’s shoulder, he sighs at the feeling of his leg rubbing against his forgotten cock. Clint shouldn’t be turned on by the sight of the Hulk biting his lip, or the feeling of him grinding gently against his thigh. He urges the larger man to roll over, and the Hulk is willing, taking Clint with him as he rolls over and rests his giant back against the floor, pinning Clint to his chest and licking his lips.

 

“Clint help,” he repeats, feeling a pulse shoot down through his cock that can’t be ignored.

 

The Hulk releases Clint, but when he starts to wriggle downwards, he suddenly grabs him by the shoulders.

 

“No. Other way. Turn around,” he says, not sure how to ask for what he wants. “Hulk wants to do it too.”

 

Clint nods and turns, letting the Hulk direct him and settle him how he wants and finds himself draped over the Hulk's large chest, his face inches from his massive erection. The Hulk is moving behind him but he pays him not mind as he sets to work, his mouth and hands latching onto the man's cock.

 

Clint’s penis is soft now, and the Hulk knows that when it’s hard that means it feels good, so he just has to make it hard again. His hands take hold of Clint’s hips again, his breath puffing out over his rear end as the hot, wet feeling returns between his legs, and he begins to openly mouth at the half-soft flesh, kissing and lapping away the moisture just like before, when Clint was moaning.

 

He rolls his hips up against the sensations between his thighs, which feels so good he can hardly think straight, but he said he wanted to help too and he doesn’t go back on his word. Especially not for his only friend, who’s trying to help him feel good too.

 

He pulls back to see that his efforts haven’t been good for much – he doesn’t understand refractory periods – despite the fact that Clint has been moaning again, and he sees laid out before him, between spread legs, not only a very small penis (compared to his own) but also a glistening, twitching red bud.

 

One look at it, and flashes fill his mind of all the times the little man inside him put his penis in there, and how it made Clint moan so loud. He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the bud.

 

Clint moans, throwing his head back and momentarily ignoring the task at hand. He had been expecting that, and the Hulk's tongue it huge. Huge and hot and _strong._ He's already pressing the tip past the ring of muscle with no problem and Clint can feel his bones melt. Everything solid inside his turns to warm mush and he can't help sagging against him, panting and moaning like a whore.

 

The Hulk is surprised by the taste, but it isn’t a bad one, so he wriggles his tongue deeper. His tongue is about the size of three of Banner’s fingers as it works into him, and it’s so deep that Clint can feel the Hulk’s teeth press against the outer rim of his hole.

 

The Hulk’s arms wrap gently around Clint’s waist to keep him in place, his breath hot and heavy over his back from the giant’s nose, and he rolls his hips up again, seeking the sensation that was lost when Clint started to moan.

 

That snaps Clint back to reality. On one shaky arm he props himself up so he can lick and kiss and stroke Hulk like he had been before. Sometimes he'll stop to moan around him and he can tell the Hulk likes that. So he does it more often and is rewarded by the Hulk curling his tongue a little and hitting his prostate, making him cry out in sudden pleasure.

 

The Hulk tries to roar in satisfaction, but most of his mouth is busy with Clint’s ass, so all he can do is grunt. He’s absolutely reeling, and nothing is going through his head except wave after wave of pleasure. Much too simple to balance sensation with thought, he gives himself over entirely to motor muscle reflexes and loud noises of bliss.

 

His lips work tirelessly, his tongue pressing ever deeper, fascinated with the way Clint’s muscles flutter around his tongue, and then open up, and then contract. He doesn’t seem to have ay control over his own body as the Hulk thrusts his tongue inside him.

 

Clint is definitely hard again and he has to alternate between rutting against the Hulk's massive chest to alleviate some of the pressure building inside him and bucking back, pressing the Hulk's tongue deeper inside himself. Each time he does he thinks that's as far as the Hulk will be able to go but each time he's wrong. The Hulk always manages to press just a little deeper.  
  
It's a testament to his training that through all this he's still focused. He doesn't stray from his task but keeps himself busy, working the Hulk's cock with his hands and mouth. He just hopes he's bringing him the same amount of pleasure that the Hulk is giving him.

 

Suddenly pulling his tongue out of Clint, the Hulk throws his head back with a series of loud grunts, grinding his hips up into those perfect, calloused hands, bringing him just the right amount of pressure. He can see Clint’s hole panicking now, opening and closing and pink and wet, so he swiftly stuffs two of his fingers inside (which is easily wider than Bruce’s cock ever stretched him) because it really looks like it needs it.

 

Clint screams. He can't help it. He isn't usually a screamer. He's loud sure. He moans and groans and curses but he doesn't scream. Just doesn't happen. But those two fingers suddenly filling him and stretching him more than any cock ever has makes him scream, loud and long. The only thing muffling his voice is the Hulk's cock in his mouth.  
  
He thinks up a quick thank you prayer to whatever god is watching over him today that the Hulk so thoroughly prepared him otherwise there's no way he wouldn't be bleeding right now.

 

The vibration of Clint’s cries against his cock makes the Hulk groan in satisfaction and thrust his hips up. Clint’s jaw is aching as almost the entire head is stuffed into his mouth, but he doubts he could ever properly blow the Hulk unless he learns to dislocate his jaw. It’s a pleasant burn, though, similar to the one in his backside.

 

The Hulk’s fingers are incredibly long and impossibly thick as they work into Clint down to the knuckle, every little whine and groan spurring the massive man on more, deeper.

 

He can feel something coiling in his massive cock, he doesn’t know quite what, but he knows it feels so good and it’s feeling better and better very quickly.

 

Clint's jaw is getting tired and he has to stop stretching his lips around the head. Besides, the Hulk's orgasm can't be far off and there's no way he can swallow all of that. Or even try. He'll choke.  
  
So he pulls off and goes back to aiding his hands, sucking and kissing along the Hulk's massive length. Tracing veins with his tongue as he moans against the hot flesh. It's not ideal but it's something.

 

Something in the Hulk knows what’s coming, because suddenly he lifts Clint off of him entirely and he sits up. Clint is in his lap, the fingers never leaving his ass, planted firmly, deep inside him. His other massive hand splays across Clint’s muscle-hard belly, pinning him effectively to the Hulk’s chest as he begins to thrust his fingers inside the archer again, at the same time he thrusts his hips forward to grind between Clint’s thighs.

 

Thinking fast, Clint closes his thighs together and squeezes, giving the Hulk a tight passage to fuck, without causing him any harm, and oh the Hulk likes that because he is moaning now, roaring with pleasure.

 

"Oh, fuck. That's...that's good man." Clint encourages while moaning his own pleasure and squeezing his thighs just a little tighter. "Keep it...Ah damn, yes!...just keep it up big guy. Gonna feel so good soon. You're gonna love it."

 

The Hulk’s thrusts are powerful, and Clint would have been thrust right off his lap if the giant weren’t pinning him so firmly in place. He can already tell he’s going to have minor bruising along the backs of his thighs, but they’re gonna be so good, they’re gonna ache just right.

 

The Hulk is definitely roaring now, and he falls down onto his back again, still holding Clint in place while he pounds up between his thighs, something surging through him, something powerful, something…

 

His roar sends Clint’s ears ringing, and suddenly there’s a fountain of slightly green-tinted come showering down on Clint from his thighs to his chest. It’s so hot, and thick as glue, and it’s puddling  all over his body as that massive cock continues to slam between his thighs.

 

Clint holds tight, letting the Hulk ride out his orgasm. But then those fingers inside him twitch and they hit that spot inside him. If that alone weren't enough they don't move after that. They stay stiff, pressing against his prostate and soon he's coming, right along with the Hulk, his own come mingling with the other man's on his stomach and thighs.

 

He sags against the giant green chest beneath him, feeling so well fucked he can hardly breathe. He’s lifted gently and draped once more over that chest so that he’s facing the Hulk, eye-to-eye with those emerald green orbs.

 

“Cupid help Hulk,” he says breathily, his chest heaving and lifting Clint along with it.

 

"Y-yeah buddy. And Hulk help Cupid." Clint laughs shakily. He pats the Hulk's large arm gently, his head still a little foggy from his orgasm. "How you feeling now man? Feeling good? Tired maybe?"

 

“Hulk feels good,” his head drops back down to the ground, his eyes heavy and his breathing slowing.

 

"You wanna let me go?" Clint asks but the Hulk's hold on him is loose enough now that he can wiggle away. So he eases off his chest and manages to make it to the floor before he collapses. "Shower's gonna have to wait then." he mutters to himself before reclining back against the Hulk, his own eyes starting to close.

 

After a few minutes, Clint can hear the Hulk start to snore. A few minutes after that, and he’s slowly shrinking until Bruce is lying naked on the ground, sticky with semen, eyes opening deliriously as he looks around.

 

“What happened?” he asks, voice hoarse as he sees Clint, also smothered with come.

 

Clint's not tired anymore. Far from it. He scrambles away to the opposite side of the cell, hands help up in surrender. "It was necessary, alright? And it wasn't my fault."

 

Squinting, Bruce sits up, and looks between himself and Clint, both naked, both smothered with semen, and the last several minutes blacked out of his memory.

 

“Did you… did you have _sex_ with _the Hulk_?” he asks incredulously, mouth agape as he stares forward at his lover.

 

"Not exactly. I gave him a hand-slash-blow job." Clint says with a shrug. Like what they did was no big deal. "And he took it upon himself to reciprocate in a way."

 

Bruce just blinks in shock, a silence heavy between them and then suddenly Bruce snorts.

 

“Oh my God, you deflowered the Hulk.”

 

"You're not pissed?" Clint asks nervously, standing up a little. He's still wary. Bruce could just be in shock right now and the anger will be coming in soon.

 

“Why did you do it?” Bruce asks, in lieu of answering, as he begins to flake some of the drying come out of his chest hair.

 

"He's a friend and a part of you." Clint answers carefully. "And he was in pain. I couldn't just leave him like that. Poor guy had no idea what to do. So Tony called me down and I offered to lend a hand. It seemed like the right thing to do."

 

Suddenly Bruce remembers the drug they tested, and he remembers a feeling of heat washing over him, and he chuckles. “Tony hit me with an aphrodisiac. We need to make some major modifications to that drug.” He runs his hands through his hair. “After I shower. Would you like to join me?”

 

Clint grins and practically bounces across the cell to him. He hooks his arm through Bruce's and smiles at him, so glad he isn't yelling or getting all quiet like he usually does when he's really mad. "I would love to. Gotta warn you though, I might be a little loose. Hulk's got big fingers."

 

 


End file.
